


Stuck

by MsChievous



Series: Promptis Fan Week 2017 [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bullying, Hypothermia, M/M, Poor Prompto, Worried Noctis, noctis is bae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 21:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsChievous/pseuds/MsChievous
Summary: Prompto is working in his school cafeteria when a stupid prank goes awry and he ends up in the hospital





	Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the "free" prompt. I work at my school cafeteria and the first time I went into the cooler, I thought I was trapped b/c there was no handle on the inside (you just push it open).
> 
> But there's also a lock, so my mind immediately thought of Prompto being trapped inside.
> 
> >:D

Prompto huffed, pushing the tray of dishes onto the clean cart rack and starting to wheel it in place for the others to put away.

“Hey, Prompto,” Chef Andre poked his head into the dishroom, “I’m going to head to the concert now. You sure you can handle closing up by yourself?”

Prompto nodded, “Go ahead, and tell your daughter congrats on first chair!”

“Will do. Thanks again, Prompto. I owe you one.”

Prompto laughed, “I’ll hold you to that!”

With another “thank you”, Chef Andre hurried out the kitchen, leaving Prompto alone, save for the three other student workers currently emptying the compost bins out back. He sighed, taking stock of what still needed to happen. The clean dishes still needed to be put away, but Jeremiah preferred doing that, the pans of food from the salad bar still needed to be put in the cooler, and then everything needed to be wiped down with clean rags.

Prompto really didn’t want to wipe stuff down, and Phillip and Memla were assholes to him, so they could do that shit.

Also the dishroom was really warm right now and he wanted to cool down.

Carefully, Prompto pushed the cart into the cooler and immediately regretted it. Gods, why is the cooler so damn cold? Ignoring the goosebumps rising up on his skin, Prompto pushed the cart into the center of the cooler and started loading the leftover foods into their proper places.

He glanced at his watch and groaned. He had promised Noctis that they could meet up in the lunchroom to work on their project ten minutes ago. They had only been talking for two days, and already Prompto was fucking it up. Whoops.

At least he only had to put the shredded lettuce away, and then he would make sure that the others were doing their job. Five minutes, tops.

_Click_.

Prompto’s heart hammered in his chest. What had that been? It sounded like it had come from by the door, but the only thing by the door that clicks should be the lock, and that shouldn’t be locked until everyone was gone.

He hurried to the door, glancing out the window. He could barely make out Phillip and Memla’s retreating forms as they rounded the corner to the lunchroom.

_Fuck. fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck_.

He pressed against the door to the cooler, praying the clicking noise had been his imagination, but it wasn’t.

“FUCK!” He screamed, pounding his fist against the door, “LET ME OUT, PLEASE!”

He knew it was no use, you couldn’t hear much of anything from outside the cooler, but he had to hope that someone would look his way.

Usually, Chef Andre would do the closing sweep, but he didn’t think the others knew that Andre had left early. If they didn’t come back for him, he could actually freeze to death. _Fuck_.

Already, it was starting to get uncomfortably cold.

Holding back tears, Prompto pushed back the salad cart, giving him some room to move. Maybe if he was lucky, and he kept moving, he could avoid freezing. He’d just have to keep moving… Until the chefs came…. In the morning…. More than twelve hours away…

Maybe Noctis would get curious and see what happened to him. Maybe he would get mad and just leave. He was stuck here, there was nothing he could do. His phone was charging in the charging station, so he couldn’t call anyone, and if Phillip and Memla had already left, then Jeremiah probably wouldn’t stick around either. No janitors would clean in the kitchen, that was the kitchen workers’ job, he…. He was probably going to die.

 

* * *

 

Noctis glanced at his phone. It was 4:10. Prompto had said that he’d be done with work at 4. He’d give the blond five more minutes, then he’d call and start to get snippy.

Just as Noctis set his phone down, a man in a chef’s uniform hurried from the kitchen and towards the side exit, down to the parking lot.

“Hey, is Prompto still back there?” Noctis asked.

The chef glanced up in surprise, then nodded.

“‘Kay, thanks,”

Without a word, the chef disappeared through the side exit. Just a few seconds later, two workers booked it from the kitchen towards the school, giggling and nudging each other.

Noctis sighed, turning back to his phone. It looked like everyone was done working, so where was Prompto?

Two minutes later, another worker ambled out, looking around in confusion. “Is… is everyone gone?” He asked.

Noctis shrugged, “The chef and two other people already left.”

“Then why the hell am I still here?” He grumbled to himself.

“Hey, is Prompto still back there?”

The kid shook his head. “Nah, I didn’t see him. If the chef’s already gone, then he’s probably gone too. If you didn’t see him leave he must have taken the kitchen exit to the south hallway.”

Noctis furrowed his brows. Why would Prompto sneak out that way if he knew Noctis was waiting in the lunchroom? Was he trying to avoid working on the project? He seemed like a trustworthy guy, but if this guy didn’t see him, he must have left.

Pulling out his phone, Noctis thanked the kid, and tapped Ignis’ contact. After a few seconds of ringing, his advisor picked up.

“Highness, is something the matter? I was under the impression that you were working on a project?” Ignis asked.

“Dunno, Iggy, I think Prompto left. One of the workers said he wasn’t back there.”

Ignis sighed. “Highness, I planned around you not needing a ride home for a few hours. I will be in a meeting until at least seven, so the earliest I can be there is around seven twenty.

Noctis groaned. “C’mon, Iggyyyyy,”

“Whining does little to change my mind, Noctis,”  
Noctis grumbled his disappointment, ending the call without another word. Now, because _Prompto_ decided to weasel his way out of doing his portion of the project, he was stuck here for at least three more hours. Well, Prompto’d have to see Noctis in class tomorrow, and then Noctis could corner him about it, bring the teacher in, if necessary.

He shot a quick text to the blond, in case he actually _had_ simply forgotten, then shuffled over to the library. Might as well nap on one of the couches if he had to wait that long.

 

* * *

 

Cold…

It was so cold…

Why was he so cold?

Everything was so fuzzy, too. Where was he? He was in a cold place. He needed to get to a warm place. Where was a warm place?

The fuzz cleared slowly. He was leaning against something really cold. It pressed into his back. He sat forward, trying to get away from the cold, but the cold was all around him also. He needed to get to warmth. Cold was bad.

At least he wasn’t shivering a lot. That was a good sign, wasn’t it? He wasn’t quite sure.

But if he wanted to get to warmth, he had to get to his feet, right? He wasn’t on his feet now, so he had to get to his feet. He had to get to his feet and go to the warmth.

...Where was there warmth?

No, first, he had to get to his feet.

He grabbed the first thing he could. It was so cold it burned, but he gripped it tighter, trying to use it to pull himself to his feet. The thing moved, rolling towards him. It had wheels. Oh.

He tried again, being careful of the wheels, and managed to heave himself to his feet.

He was in the cooler, at work. He didn’t know why he was here, shouldn’t he be in bed? He should’ve been nice and warm in bed, but now he was cold and at work. That didn’t make any sense. With a groan, he stumbled towards the door. The floor seemed to warp under his feet, but he made it to the door and leaned against it in relief. Then he pressed more firmly, brows furrowing in confusion.

No, that wasn’t right, it should open. There’s no reason it shouldn’t open, it always opened.

His stomach clenched in fear. He was too cold. When people get too cold, they die. He was going to die.

He didn’t want to die.

In desperation, he grabbed the first thing his hand came in contact with, a porcelain jug of yogurt, and hurled it at the door. The jug smashed against the thick metal, covering the window in a thick pinkish sludge.

_At least I won’t starve to death_ … He hummed, clumsily wiping a finger through the yogurt and sucking it. It tasted pretty good. Maybe he should eat more food. It would probably make things worse, eating cold food, but it was nearly five thirty, a whole hour and a half since he was going to meet up with Noctis.

Noctis had probably left already.

He was going to die alone, might as well not die hungry too.

 

* * *

 

Noctis jerked out of a cat nap when someone swatted him on the shoulder.

The librarian, a pinch-faced grandmother who took the Dewey Decimal system _way_ too seriously, was glaring at him.

“Young man, those couches aren’t for you to laze about. Now I’m closing up the library, I’d rather not lock you inside.”

Noctis bit back a retort that he’d probably just sleep through it and instead got to his feet, glancing at his phone. Prompto had _not_ texted him back, in fact, and it was now almost six twenty. Ignis still wouldn’t pick him up for an hour, and the only other couches where in the teacher’s lounge.

He vaguely considered going there anyway, but decided against it. He was kinda hungry, and Prompto had (in a technical violation of the rules, but who really cares) told him where they keep the food and that he was welcome to it if he could filch it.

So he walked over to the lunchroom, toying with the idea of calling Prompto this time. He didn’t want to be an asshole about it, unless _Prompto_ was being an asshole about it, in which case, fuck him.

But he really seemed like a cool dude. He hardly seemed the type to try and get out of doing work. So, as he climbed the stairs into the lunchroom, he dialed Prompto’s number.

He was halfway to the kitchen when he paused, listening intently to a faint jingle coming from the kitchen.

That… that sounded like Prompto’s phone. Did he forget it in the kitchen?

Curiously, Noctis pushed open the door, surprised to find it unlocked.

The kitchen was basically a giant L, with the long part of the L dedicated to preparation and the short part of the L dedicated to food storage. In the corner of the L where the long and short part met was the coat rack and charging station, Prompto had said. And there was Prompto’s phone, laying on the counter next to a set of keys.

“Hey, Prompto? You here?” Noctis called. Worry was starting to twist his gut. Sure, Prompto was a forgetful guy, but to forget his phone and keys? And not notice it for two hours? That didn’t seem likely.

“Prompto, buddy?” He started down the short end of the L, glancing into the dry storage cabinet to see if maybe he had gotten locked in there or something, but there was nothing. He didn’t even bother swiping anything, he wasn’t that hungry anymore. “I’m starting to get worried dude…”

As he looked around, his eyes caught on a weird pinkish sludge covering the window of the cooler. He poked at it, but it was on the inside. _The hell?_ He thought. He tried opening the cooler, but it was locked. He glanced around, and caught sight of the keys by Prompto’s phone. There _were_ quite a lot of them, and Prompto mentioned he pretty much had keys to the entire kitchen, so maybe…

Noctis snatched them up and tried each one, praying that he found the right one. It might be nothing, there might be nothing in there and he might just be overreacting, but he had noticed that Phillip and Memla often picked on Prompto, and they had been working with him today, and they had run out of the kitchen laughing...

He doubted they would go so far as to _kill_ him, but maybe they didn’t expect him not to be able to get out? Maybe they just meant to scare him? Maybe he was just thinking too hard about this.

However, when one key finally slid in place, and Noctis unlocked the door, he swung it open to find Prompto, curled up on the ground, containers of food littered all around him.

_FUCK._

“Prompto!” Noctis hurried to the blond’s side, careful to wedge a cart into the doorway to keep it from closing, just in case. “Prompto, can you hear me?”

Prompto was so still, it didn’t look like he was even breathing, and his skin was so cold, fuck. Could he even survive this, was he gonna die?

Noctis shook the thought out of his head and carefully threaded his arms under the Prompto’s armpits, wrapping his arms around the blond’s chest and dragging him back into the kitchen. He kicked the cart back into the cooler and slammed the cooler door shut.

With that done, he picked up his phone. He froze then, trying to figure out if he should call Ignis or the ambulance.

Fuck, no, ambulance first, then Ignis.

The operator was calm and collected, telling him how to properly treat Prompto’s hypothermia in the interim of the ambulances.

“Do you know about how long he was trapped in the cooler?”

“Uh…” Noctis’ heart raced as he tried to concentrate. He needed to be calm, like the operator, he couldn’t panic, panic would be bad for Prompto. “Like, two hours? Two and a half? I- I don’t know.”

“That’s fine. And do you know how cold the cooler is?”

Noctis glanced around. “Th- It says 38 degrees. Th-that’s cold.”

“It’s cold, but if he was only in there for a little over two hours, it’s highly doubtful that he’s in any danger, as long as about half of his body is covered.” She explained.

“Y-yeah! He’s wearing jeans, and a polo shirt, a-and a hat.”

“Then he just needs to go to the hospital. They should be able to get him back to normal with almost no ill effects.”

That send a thrill of relief down Noctis’ spine. Thank the Astrals.

“Okay, is there anything you think could be important? Does he look like he hit his head, or his his breathing especially low or shallow?”

“I-I don’t know, I don’t think he hit his head, and it’s not, like, _normal_ breathing, but-”

“Count how many times he breathes in a minute. If it’s abnormally low, below ten or twelve, you need to start CPR, if you’re certified.”  
“I-”

Noctis was cut off by a group of three men hurrying into the kitchen, led by a worried-looking secretary. “H-Highness, what-?” She started, looking from Noctis to Prompto and back again, then pursed her lips together and stepped back, watching with concern.

 

* * *

 

Noctis glanced at his phone. It was almost seven fifteen, and Ignis hadn’t responded yet, which probably meant that the meeting hadn’t gotten out yet. He was partially sad, partially relieved that Ignis wasn’t here. He just wanted some time with Prompto.

As the operator had promised, the doctors assured him Prompto would be fine. His internal body temperature had fallen pretty low, but not low enough to be dangerous, so he just needed to get it back up, and he’d be fine.

He’d be fine.

Noctis buried his face in his hands. If only he had gone looking for Prompto sooner, they could have avoided all this. And what if he hadn’t? What if he just left? The doctors said that after about four hours, his body temperature probably would have been too low, if Noctis left, who would have looked for him? He would have _died_.

A buzz from his pocket made him jump, and he scrambled for his phone.

Ignis.

Swallowing his anxiety, he accepted the call. “Hey, Specs,”

“Noctis, are you uninjured? Your text simply said you were going to the hospital with Prompto, which one of you is hurt?”

“Iggy, I’m fine, I’m not hurt. But, uh, Prompto… Prompto got locked in the cooler in the school kitchen. He-he’s fine, don’t worry. Just needs rest.”

Ignis let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I’ll be right over. What hospital are you at?”

“Uh, Crown Capital, I think. It’s like five minutes away from school.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” With that, Ignis ended the call.

Noctis slid the phone into his pocket and stared out the window at the street corner, foot tapping on the ground.

A few minutes later, he heard a muffled groan and looked over to see Prompto opening his eyes blearily.

“Wha…?” Prompto’s voice was muffled by the oxygen mask pumping warm air into his body, but Noctis’ shoulder slumped in relief. He was awake, he was conscious.

“Hey, Prompto,” He said softly. “How are you doing?”

“‘M r’lly ‘arm.”

“I bet you _are_ pretty warm. You got pretty cold, so the doctors are doing their best to warm you up.”

“Doc’ors?” He mumbled, “Why’re doc’ors ‘ere?”

“Prompto, you’re in the hospital. You were hypothermic. Do you understand?”

“‘M a’ the hospital? Hmm? Hypo...hypother... “ Prompto licked his lips. “I was cold.”

“Yes, you were very cold. But the doctors are making you warm.”

“I...I was stuck,” Prompto’s eyes seemed to be regaining their lucidity, and he furrowed his brows, “I was stuck… in the cooler. I.. how did I get out?”

Noctis gave him a small smile, “I found you. Nearly gave me a heart attack,” He tried to joke, but it fell flat when Prompto didn’t laugh.

“You… you saved me…” Prompto breathed.

“I… I guess I did,” Noctis flushed.

“Thank you. Thank you _so_ much, I owe you…. I owe you my life. I thought I was going to die, oh, gods, I’m alive!” A slightly unhinged laugh bubbled up from Prompto’s laugh and Noctis found himself cringing away slightly.

“It’s really no big deal. I’d hate for my newest friend to die on me so soon after we met!” The way Prompto was looking at him, like a mortal who had finally caught a glimpse of the gods, was making him shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“It _is_ a big deal,” Prompto said, pushing himself into more of a sitting position, “You saved my _life_. I didn’t expect to wake up. But you made sure I did, and… And I can’t ever thank you enough.”

“Well, you can start by toning down on the grovelling. I would’ve done it to anyone, even those assholes that trapped you in there.”

“Th-I don’t think they meant to keep me in there so long!” Prompto piped up, “The-”

Noctis held up his hand. “You can also thank me by not trying to excuse the people who did that to you.”

Prompto shut his mouth.

“Good. Now, the doctors couldn’t get a hold of your parents. They wanted to know if there were other numbers they could reach them at.”

Prompto blanched, and the heart rate monitor spiked for a moment. “They… they don’t answer their phones a lot. They’re very busy.”  
“Too busy to visit their son who’s in the _hospital_?”  
“They’re in Galahd, they can’t exactly get here that quickly.”

Noctis blinked. “Oh, sorry. Um, I guess Ignis can help you with stuff, then.”

A silence blanketed them for a few moments. “What did I do to deserve you?” Prompto finally whispered.

“I dunno. You’re just a pretty cool guy. That pretty much does it in my book.”

Prompto laughed, then sighed. “You’re a pretty cool guy, too.” Almost against his will, his hand slid out and rested near, almost on top of, Noctis’. He stared at his traitorous hand for a few moments before Noctis laughed and took Prompto’s hand in his own.

Prompto closed his eyes as Noctis rubbed comforting circles into the back of his hand, and the blond drifted back to sleep.

A pit in his stomach that Noctis hadn’t even noticed he had evaporated, and he stared at Prompto’s sleeping form, perfectly content for the first time in a while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY Y’ALL, LOOK AT THE [MATH](https://imgur.com/UJbLM1K) I DID TO FIND OUT HOW LONG PROMPTO COULD BE IN THE COOLER AND WHAT HIS BODY TEMPERATURE WOULD BE WHEN NOCTIS FOUND HIM.  
> I DON’T EVEN LIKE MATH BUT GOD IS IT NICE TO BE ABLE TO FIGURE THIS SHIT OUT.  
> Hell, you wanna do your own hypothermia fic? Just lemme know and I can hook u up with these sick equations.


End file.
